Center of the Universe (not Fremont, Seattle)
My time with Gino was so interesting, unique, and fun. It defined a part of my Peace Corps experience. I have never believed that line about how some friends come into your life for a reason, for a season, or for good, but I think I just might now. Because I don’t know how to capture the time we spent in my town, I will just say that Gino has been in Ukraine for two years, speaks Ukrainian, and it still took me a long time to show him the west, to really open for him the culture here. Even in homogeneous societies, there is such diversity; I’ll leave it up to him to add more. Gino, you are welcome anytime, where ever I might be, but because I feel more words are fitting (though perhaps silence would be the most illustrative), I dedicate this post to you and your pursuit of meaning.
Almost from my first day, actually I started noticing before I left the States, Ukraine has a strange amount of coincidences with my life.
Ukraine is where the ancient land of Scythia was located, the home to the fabled Griffin, which from childhood has always been one of my favorites.
You all know my love for the sea. The ancient Kyivan Rus came from Scandinavia, and somewhere along the way, they picked up a Trident as their symbol. The Ukrainian letters for “freedom” are visible in it today.
Although this is commonly called Eastern Europe, a small village near where I live is actually the geographical center of Europe (from Iberia to the Urals). Go look for yourself.
President Bush had some big scare last year about a bomb on train, that turned out to be bogus (after they reacted a bit extremely) and they traced it back to a conversation held between to men at a urinal in Ukraine. How do you trace something like that? I hope it wasn’t one of the conversations I have with my Peace Corps friends when we pretend to be spies.
The woman who recommended my apartment has a niece with a degree from Harvard that worked in Romania for Peace Corps, if I understood her correctly. I learned this after I had lived here a year.
The Ukrainian chapter of Amnesty International was started in my town. It moved offices about 2 years before I got here.
My host mom uses one of those toothbrushes with a phone number on it from a dentist’s office. She bought it here. The area code is for Orlando.
The lesson which life repeats and constantly enforces is “look under foot.”: You are always nearer to the divine and the true sources of your power than you think. The lure of the distant and the difficult is deceptive. The greatest opportunity is where you are. Do not despise your own place and hour. Every place is under the stars, everyplace is in the center of the world.” John Burroughs.
Zagreb, final notes
We drove to Mishkoltz in Hungary that night. Bathroom breaks were always a problem as we had two buses and stops often had only one toilet, not to mention there were a million busses on the road, many heading our way. All these buses are also trying to cross the border. I never thought we would make it, but we did. We got there mid morning and went downtown which was alright, as was the Hungarian food at the mall food court where we had lunch. We were dragging, but then we went to the baths, which is why we stopped in this town, and they were cool! They had rooms from different bathe styles throughout history and they were carved into a deep grotto in the mountain. Everything was very clean. I hadn’t been excited about the stop, but it was well worth it.
People came back to the bus late even though Jura had announced it on the loud speaker to the whole complex. This included the group that I had gone in with. I had again wondered off on my own, and Gino, another Jura, Lesya and Ira were coming back as Jura and I made our way back to round people up. [I had met the girls in the bathroom line at a stop on the way to Zagreb, and we all hung out a good bit at the conference, although they were in another parish than ours. In the weeks to come, while back in Drohobych, we would see a lot of them.] They said they hadn’t heard the announcement, but when we got back to the place (it was about 7 minute walk from where the bus was parked), there were people from our group just sitting inside eating, but they couldn’t see us waiting, and the ticket takers wouldn’t let us back in to get them. Even when they came out, they were very inconsiderate and unremorseful. It reminded me of the people that scream at each other in the parking lot after church lets out, considering where we had left the day before. We got home with no more difficulties. We were there early in the morning, said goodbye to all, or ‘maybe we’ll see you later’, though we didn’t see anyone else that day, and went home to nap a few hours. Michelle stayed for two more days, Gino for a month (to be explained), and right when Michelle left is when the Ukrainian holidays really got rolling.
A few Random Thoughts from Croatia:
-They drink tea in the evening and early morning, but only during the day if they are sick (which is very different from Ukrainians) and it is red, and very good!
-The host family had an ingenious magnetic soap holder! It had an arm mounted to the wall with a magnet at the end and a little disk of metal that you push into the top of the soap. Never any slimy soap goop!
-Croatia has many different crests; the major ones (although the flag has six, I think) are Croatian, Slovonian, and Dalmatian. I think they are all descendents of Ruthenians, and tend to see the others as brothers. The war was rather removed from here. It seemed to have more to do with the Serbs and Bosnians, who were not part of the Austrio-Hungarian Empire, unlike the Croats.
-People smoke inside their homes. At least our host family did and thought it was odd not to. Most Ukrainians don’t smoke inside, in my experience. They will smoke on the balcony.
-At the conference there are so many different sects of Christians but they all live peacefully together not even discussing protestant and catholic distinctions. Predominantly Catholic countries are definitely better represented and there are very few Orthodox. You really can’t tell what people believe (they don’t wear it on their sleeve) until you talk with them, although some are normally rather conflicting views. They all come together here. It is beautiful.
-Taize really tries to capture a mood at the prayers, so as you walk in there are volunteers managing traffic and holding big signs that say ‘silence’ or show a red slashed camera. It is pretty interesting.
And now, let’s review for anyone thinking of going next year. Here are the conference pluses: you get to know a host family; you participate in a local church community; you have small discussion groups with many different nations; it is a great way to see a new city; it is very well organized; the conferences are dependable and consistent but always new too; it is a great way to spread peace and understanding; and it really is hard to stick with their program because it is so jam packed with great things to do and there are even more alternatives in the city. Can I sign you up?
Labels: Taize
Zagreb, And we’re off
The next day we had a regular church service with the local congregation; it was Sunday. Croats are very predominantly Roman Catholic. I was impressed how similar Croatian is to Ukrainian. I also like the tradition they have of seeding wheat about 10 days before Christmas, so they have all these little baskets of green grass around the apartment or in church. I think it is a hold over from winter fertility rights, but I like it better than the Ukrainian tradition because of the green. The Ukrainian tradition is also very beautiful though; they take the dried, harvested wheat and tie it up into little three legged figures that they put in the corners of their rooms.
After the service, Nykola drove us up the mountain; Zagreb is wedged between one great mountain (not a chain) and a big river. The mountain looks out on the whole plane and it was pretty. There was less fog today, and we had hot white wine and delicious home pastries at a little place on top. Then, he wanted to take us to an older friend that he visits and helps sometimes. The man was very nice; it reminded me of when I used to visit my elderly neighbour when I was little. We had hot wine there too. He had a real zeal for religion and even recited us some prayers in Latin. Next, Nykola drove us into town. I was feeling a bit smothered by the constant company of everyone, so I separated myself; actually, I think everyone split up. It had turned into a really nice day (no “magla”), so I walked the center part of the tour we had done the day before. The views were much better today, and I just made it into the Naïve Art Museum. I walked right into the museum, luckily, because it was already closed, but the last visitors exiting had left the door open, so I didn’t notice. The director was so friendly and said that I could take a quick look for 2 minutes; this was after they had already stayed open 3 extra hours that day from all the demand. I walked through very quickly, but was allowed more than two minutes. Naïve art is very interesting. Then I bought some souvenirs; I even used my credit card and then they let me go back in for the bathroom. I was quite impressed by the genuine customer service, and the art.
I wondered on to the cathedral, which is so beautiful. I ate a snack there from all the leftover food I had from the other meals (remember we had missed picking up our lunch for this day). Then, I needed to get back to the conference site for our regional meetings. On my way back, I saw a man pick a cigarette out of an ashtray and smoke it! He did it nonchalantly, but I definitely noticed.
I was a tad bit late for the meeting, so I stood in the back; it turned out to be quite interesting (I thought, since I was at the Ukraine regional meeting that it wouldn’t much apply to me), but it was hard to hear because not everyone was in the back was interested. They explained the icon, that I had noticed the first day. It was an old Coptic art piece, and they had chosen it as this year’s symbol for the conference because the style is simple but very reassuring, and because of this, you can’t tell if the man standing with Jesus’ arm around him even knows if Jesus is there. The brothers prepared a big replica of this icon for each country and sent it with the groups so that it could travel their home countries and continue the “pilgrimage of Peace” (the conference title this year).
Then we went to eat (I think, though I don’t quite remember and my notes don’t say) and then have evening prayer. It was good, but I think yesterday afternoon’s with only the people that most wanted there was the best. The evening ones always had the best attendances, and they would announce special guests at one point in the service. The Pope and the Orthodox Episcope wrote letters to the meeting, but many Croatian high government officials came, as well as high Jewish and Muslim clerics, and I think the current head of Mother Theresa’s order. I can’t remember everyone now, but every night it was impressive to hear who was in attendance. Then there was a special ceremony where they brought forth a candle that had been kindled from the Flame of Bethlehem and they had already passed each of us a candle, and so the whole room became lit with candle light. Our little candles would burn out about 2 inches from the bottom. Mine was one of the first to go around me, and I couldn’t get it relit. Then I noticed other people having the same problem. I couldn’t figure out how they did it.
So, next we went back to the parishes; Stanka had a big meal for us, though she had already eaten. Her and her husband went to some friends house that they said would be boring, but we couldn’t convince them to come with us. The daughter went to a party back in the center where the conference was; she is not so religious and really took barely a passing interest in any of us or the goings on. We started singing songs with the guitar like “I’ve been working on the railroad.” We were also practicing for the Festival of Nations. It was fun, but it made us late, again (I was the one that was always trying to push people out the door!) The evening prayer that night was the best, I finally got the chants down, and so did others, but then the prayer for silence was sad. They do this last prayer in the parish churches just before midnight on New Year’s Eve and they dedicate it to Peace. So we sit there in silence knowing that 30,000 young people and more parishioners are spread all over the city praying just then, but all you can hear are the early fireworks going off. Fireworks in Ukraine, and seems also Croatia, are a big deal on New Year’s. Everyone does their own and there are no (enforced) laws about where or the size of these explosives. It makes for quite a 360 degree extravaganza (if somewhat dangerous), but we were still inside praying and to me they sounded a lot like bombs. Hear we are, praying for peace, and all I can imagine is this must be what a war is like, all the civilians huddled in the silence of fear and anticipation in the church as bombs rage in close proximity. It is upsetting me just writing about it now.
But then the silence passed and we went out to join the festivities. (my spirits were a bit dampened). After lots of cheering and congratulations outside, our 8 nations filed back in to the church to start the Festival of Nations. This also went on in churches all across town. Each contingent prepares something fun, a song or skit, that illustrates their traditions. The two other Americans and I started (making a ninth nation) with the spiritual “I’ll fly away” and a little guitar help from Gino; it was very popular. The Polish song was fun, but Jura said that they always do the same one. The Croats had volunteers act out a reading of Snow White. I was chosen as a dwarf, and found myself next to a confused Italian. Amazingly enough, from my time at camps in Italy, I could answer “I think we are dwarves” in Italian when she asked me what was going on. Then I was confused by the Lithuanians, but it was all very fun. Afterwards, we went to the church hall for a disco; the music was quite good and quite a mix of styles, languages and years. I enjoyed some Spanish music, which I haven’t heard in awhile, and I think everyone on earth must know how to sing along with “Pretty Woman”. The whole thing was really surreal to me, and as we danced under a neon/stained glass painting of the 12 apostles, I was reminded of a disco I had been in Paestum, Italy, where we danced outside next to a wall built about 3000 years ago by Greeks.
I was done by 4 and so several of us left for bed, but the party was still raging. The next morning, I was supposed to read, and it was the whole parish’s regular service. So I needed at least a bit of sleep; plus we were going to get on a bus for the next two nights.
After service the next morning, we went back to the apartment and had a big, leisurely meal and socialized with our family. We ate way too much; we had planned to play football, but everyone was so tired and full. Then Nykola drove us into where all the busses were leaving from. Taize packed us with yet more food on the bus, and away we went.
Labels: Taize
Zagreb, part II - There
Today, we had a nice breakfast, but were a bit late to church for Morning Prayer, which is much the same as the big group prayer but it is only the people in our Parish. I read at church. Then moderated the small group which turned out not to have a common language; it went well but also missed umph (it gathered some steam the second and third day). Then we went to the city center, but while waiting for the train we went first to tea with some other Ukrainians who were very complimentary of my Ukrainain (their English is also very impressive) and we were served by a funny, wise-cracking Croat tea maiden. They have red tea here, which is really good. (It turned out that we were to hang out a lot with the Ukrainian ladies and even have twice since coming back to Ukraine despite the fact that they live in other towns). Then we had the group lunch and went to prayer all together; it was much the same as the day before.
The tea maiden had asked for my Peace Corps pin, which has both the US and Ukrainian flags on it. I didn’t want to give it up, but later I felt stingy, so I went back the next day, but she wasn’t working and then the pin got ruined/changed at disco on the last night. Another interesting story happened while we were walking to the station. A man in a car stopped to ask us what sounded like “do you know how to get to…?” and we just started to look lost, and he said, “Oh, Taize. Thank you.” And drove off to look for someone else. The scope of this whole endeavour was really amazing.
After the afternoon prayer we went to a seminar led by an Italian nun and an Italian volunteer. It was about refugees from the Balkan Wars. I thought it would be about the wars more, and was a bit disappointed at first. There was some language juggling (ended up with volunteer speaking in English, nun in French, and a Brother from the conference translating to English) and then the first part was rather “preaching to the choir” but as they talked more, and then as we asked questions we understood more. It turned out to be very interesting, because working with refugees really has very little to do with war, and had a lot to do with giving back their dignity. The volunteer related a story about how some refugees just wanted to have them for dinner, not for them to do anything, NOT to talk about the war, just to enjoy their hospitality. They really wanted to do something to help, but then they understood, and how just giving these people a normal evening helps to neutralize at least a bit the horribleness of it all.
After this seminar, I went to silence and confession. There was only a French priest and his English wasn’t good enough to really have a discussion. It wasn’t very fulfilling but my opinions of sin have changed; also, I felt a great disconnect and this type communion/discussion is very important for me for the healing process. Then we at dinner; again, very well organized. Then we went in to prayer early, because I wanted to sit very close for prayer. I wanted to sit alone, so luckily the girls happened to be near us, and they invited Gino over (who understands alone time well), but in his place sat down a young man who turned out to be American (1 of 7, we heard of being at the conference – I brought 2 with me). He is working to rebuild a church in Eastern Germany. He had done two years at the Air Force Academy.
I had hoped for more “umph” up near the front, but it was still lacking, and then they did a prayer around the cross that was rather strange to me. Another Ukrainian recognized me from the conference this summer in early July (remember the speech with the ambassador of Indonesia – see International Youth Municipal Hearings - November 13). We had talked there a bit, but now she was acting strange. She wanted to take a picture with me after the service but while there were still many people praying, and she wanted me to skip and go to some island on the coast the next day. I tried to politely decline; from her face, it was obvious that she thought me a prude. Michelle, who was supposed to have met us in Budapest, but got sick, miraculously walked into the right building and found us; really stumbled upon us, out of 30,000 people. Then we met Nikola, and he drove us all home. We got her a family. I went to the animators meeting and they had me practice singing my part for tomorrow’s Morning Prayer! We had some tea and rum from the Bosnian, Ivytsia (which I think might be their name for John), while we were talking. Then when I got home after 11, I had a whole pizza that Stanka had made because the others had already eaten their share. Slavs can be very pushy with food, but it was good, and Gino sang and played songs on the guitar till we were all so exhausted, that we practically fell into bed.
The next day, the Yuriy got up early and went with some girls from our group to the Dalmation coast. They weren’t supposed to but Jura, the leader, didn’t stop them. I think after his 12 trips, he thinks it is inevitable. The Morning Prayer had real spirit, and I didn’t mess up my sung part! The small group had some interesting discussions. Jura brought up some difficult issues with the criminal who broke into his house. It was rather scary. I consider him so normal and average, but even in his life he has dealt with deaths, shot brother-in-laws, x-rayed pregnant wives, a lonely mother, and newborns, plus his church, work, and civil responsibilities. We broke up though because other groups did, even though we had time and a good discussion going. They should have had groups more spread out, and a short but significant training for animators. So we went to town and ate in a COLD hall. The temperature had dropped and there was lots of fog (magla in Croatian – one of my favourite words). Prayer was small, because many people had skipped out to do other things today, like Yuriy. People have really got into the prayers, at least those left, and the silence – an integral part of this communion – was instantly silent. Gino is very impressive in his talent and caring. He always stops to help or ask and often starts genuine conversations with an ease and earnest that I have rarely seen. He helped a random girl in my town before we left who was struggling with her suitcase on the (good) assumption that she was heading to the trip too; and this day, he helped a physically handicapped boy in the pedestrian underpass to get up the stairs, even though there were already a lot of people helping already.
After prayer, our parish organized a tour of the city which was great, but foggy. It is really an amazing city, and between its structure, and the 30,000 of us walking around, the whole city seemed like an open air museum. I wondered what it would be like the experience this event as a local. Our parish seemed to really like it and showing their city to us. Not to mention Nikola. After the tour, which he came on, he took us to get Slovakian snack called chevapi. I made some comment about going somewhere else at the end of our tour as I thanked the girl who had conducted it and she said, “oh, are you not going back?” and I said that Nikola was taking us somewhere. She asked him where in Croatian, and in the short conversation that ensued, I thought based on tone and body language that she had said that she wanted to come, but couldn’t. I offered in English to bring her some, and she said, “no, you misunderstood. I DON’T eat that stuff, and I don’t think Nikola should either. I liked it though. It is like seasoned ground meat grilled/fried in a special way and served with onions and hot pita bread. It is really very similar to a spiced hamburger. During our time at the café, Nikola told us about his battle with hard drugs and how he had ran one night to an OLD icon at the OLD northern gate to the city. It is called the Lady of the stone gate, and you walk from the open street into this dark, small medieval gate where lots of candles are lit and lots of people are praying and there are even some pews in one corner. We had seen it that day and it has quite an atmosphere. He ran there from his town one night (a trip that takes us 10 minutes on the train) because he was so confused and addicted; and there was a beautiful girl there who comforted him. He thinks she was an angel; he says he has never seen anyone so beautiful and he has never been able to spot her again in Zagreb. He quit drugs that day, and has been very religious since. He wants his family to be more religious and apparently belongs to a somewhat ultra-conservative church but doesn’t seem to pressure anyone. His story was beautiful, but because of it we missed getting to dinner that night, which also meant we missed the distribution of lunches for the next day. We were to be given a packed lunch because the schedule was a bit different and there was only the evening prayer the next day, but the conference was so good at feeding us (read 30,000 people) that I had bits of previous meals in all my pockets.
So then we went to evening prayer, then back to our parish. I went to the animators meeting, while the others went home and they were all singing and playing guitar when I got there this night too.
Labels: Taize
Zagreb, Croatia - The Way There
So, I mentioned in my last blog that Gino and I would start my next big adventure, the next day…
but first a little background. About 30 years ago, a Christian monk, named Brother Roger, started a community in Taizé, France. The idea was to bring Christians from different sects together in a community that actively involved lay people. He was quite successful. His prayer services focus on simple songs, and actions or silence that should carry personal meaning to each participant. The community grows enormously each summer, when thousands of pilgrims from all over the world, but mostly Europe, come to participate. They live in tent cities and they work and are fed at the community. About 15 years ago, they started organizing youth conferences. The conference happens over New Year’s, in a different European city each year. It lasts 5 days, and they try to place all the participants with host families, which is usually between 25 –40,000 people, depending on the city logistics. The point is for the youth of different nations to come together to celebrate and pray during the New Year. The prayer is a big part of the program, but not over-emphasized, and although the goal isn’t stated as such, it quickly becomes clear that it is to get youth out and travelling, constructively spending the holiday, and to promote world peace through brotherhood. Subtle is the word to describe Taize. The conferences fees are less for nations with weaker economies. These are my opinions. You can check it out at
www.taize.frA good friend of mine, Jura, has been to the community or these events 12 times. He organizes a big trip every year for the local church diocese, and since Sando and I have a tradition to visit a new country every New Year, but this year he couldn’t because he was saving for his wedding, I signed up to go. I didn’t want to be sitting around by myself. The more I learned, the cooler I thought the whole idea was, and so I tried to get others involved. Gino was one of the ones that I was successful with.
Since Sando religiously keeps a journal of our adventures, I felt the task fell to me this year. So here it is; dedicated to you, Sando. (Did you keep a journal of what you did?) By the way, I am kidnapping you and Rella to go this next year. It will be in Geneva, Switzerland. I’ve already told my friend to sign us up. Is anyone else interested? I am so glad that I wrote notes and entries as we went, because as I expected, my impressions changed in the short time that I was there.
Quotes show actual journaling; the rest was compiled from notes.
…So, early in the morning we go to meet the 80 people that are going on the 2 busses from my town. There is prayer service first, which we don’t all fit in the chapel at our youth center, and then we waited around for awhile for the busses to get there. Gino is a very good discussion partner, and as he now is in India pursuing his metaphysical roots, we launched right into a discussion on religion. We didn’t know each other that well, and I figured we might be spending a lot of time together so I figured we might as well get each others’ opinion. Plus, I didn’t recognize anyone else waiting, so there was no need to try to keep up a Ukrainian conversation. There was a couple standing nearby that seemed to be listening. Turned out that they were friends of Jura’s from a town far away, and also knew no one else. In fact, many of the people in our contingent weren’t actually from my town. We got along well with them and sat near them when the bus finally came. We left 2 hours later than planned, and so had to stop for a bathroom break after about an hour. 3 stops later, after nightfall, we finally got to the border between Ukraine and Hungary. It basically took us all day to drive what should have been about 6 hours.
“Yesterday, we got to Budapest after travelling all night and spending forever on the border. It was beautiful! We spent all day walking around, although a lot of things I wanted to see were closed for the holidays; or else, they were out of the price range of the Ukrainians who said that they wanted to go with my plan. I had spent much of the bus time planning it from a Lonely Planet book. Both my diligence and the book greatly impressed them. I liked the city a lot, but 10 hours is an absurdly short time to see it. I, unfortunately, didn’t get to do anything with wine L. The Four Seasons Hotel there is incredible; I’m thinking of applying. Gino said the whole city looked remade from just 3 years ago, when he was last here.”
“Then we went all night again, and made much better time to Zagreb. We were shorter at the border, and I slept more this night, but I felt less rested. Father Hoy was very friendly this morning; he isn’t always so ‘thrilled’ to see me, when I see him weekly at his youth center where I have adult English club. Things were very well organized at registration in Zagreb. Each arriving country had a different school around town to go to. I was designated as an “animator”. We were briefed on procedures and directions, and then took are bags and boarded the city’s public transportation with our new free-to-ride-on-anything cards. We were off to find our host families. It was funny to see 30,000 people, virtually none of which speak Croatian, navigating the city’s public transport. I saw 2 people I knew from other Ukrainian contingents (a nearby volunteer’s, Edwin’s, first coordinator, and Velodia from a Caritas volunteer conference that I had been to).”
There were about 2,000 Ukrainians in all. Some people were taken to be volunteers. I almost went – long, not interesting story. The volunteers are 10 % of each contingent and they run everything at the conference, except for all the registration and departures which is done by the hosting city. Some of the Taizé brothers come 3 months ahead of the conference to live and work with the parishes and establish all the logistics. The organizational qualities are mind-boggling and incredibly executed. This year, all 30,000 people lived with host families. If they can’t arrange that, then they at least find one to host you for New Year’s Day dinner, and you sleep in a school or a church, Jura told me.
“At the Parish, the family assigning process was a bit chaotic but we- Jura, another Jura, Gino and I- ended up with a great family, after some waiting (found out later we came in at an incredible rush; our parish hosted the 2nd most people and we showed up en mass - 130 people at once.) I didn’t yet find out what it meant to be an animator, but I was told I had to be back at the church after evening prayer. Our family fed us excellently with cream of mushroom soup; they are very dramatic which makes communication easier; plus Croatian and Ukrainian are so close, that I understood a good bit. We also got to shower before they sent us on our way. The father is from here and the mother is from Montenegro. They are very friendly, but we had to hurry out to get to the center of town for the first prayer. Our host’s son, Nikola, is about 22; he is an engineering student and very friendly and jovial. He speaks some English. He has a great, very communicative whistle that he uses like a part of his vocabulary; it was extra interesting because in Ukraine there is a superstition that if you whistle inside, you will be poor. He came with us to the center, and we went first to tea with Petra, also a local from our community, who studies Ukrainian! Then we went to the dinner pavilion; they feed 30,000 people in an hour and a half. It is amazing. Tonight it was hot, canned soup – no frills anywhere, but all so very organized.”
“Then was our first group prayer. All the conference attendees come, but there are several halls split up by language. If there isn’t one with your language, they give you a small radio and they broadcast a translation of your language on a posted frequency. There were 40 nations of people present this year. The prayer doesn’t really have a start or a finish; it involves lots of singing, candles and prayers in different languages. It has a very neat (and tidy) effect but I don’t feel much moved by it [this changed as the week went on, more next time]. Many people don’t sing, and they take a while to get settled during the silent parts [this also changed, as well as the fact that they stopped announcing when the silences would be, as the week went on]. They try to make the songs simple, and they repeat them many times, but to get the melodies and foreign words is hard enough. They come out a lot like chants, but they are songs without much umph. There’s an altar but no one does anything with it. There was a very old icon also, but no one bothered with it either; Jura didn’t know what it was.”
So then Nikola took us home. They sat around talking, but I had to go back to the local church to find out what it means to be an animator. I talked with people of many different nations; in our parish there are groups from Italy, Germany, Poland, Montenegro, Latvia, Bosnia and of course Croatia and Ukraine. I found out that I would help with the morning prayers at the local church and be a small group discussion moderator immediately after the prayers. It sounded interesting and easy.
Labels: Taize
Happy Women's Day
So back in 1910 or so, there was a movement started called Women's Day. The USA helped to make it an international holiday, and the Soviet Union gave it a lot of support. Over time it came to be celebrated on March 8.
So to all the women out there. Have a very wonderful day.
http://www.internationalwomensday.com/PS. The blog I just posted, Holidays - part II is a bit long
Holidays – part II
Christmas (American)
For our actual Christmas, I decided to go with some volunteers who had arranged to stay in a cabin a few hours away. There is a famous pysanky (decorated Easter eggs) museum in the town nearby the cabin. This time there were 17 people and again I was the only one from my group. I have done a lot more Peace Corps Volunteer events this year. I have a theory on why, but that conversation we must have in person.
The cabin was wonderful, and the guy who runs it is a very interesting Ukrainian. I highly recommend the place; Vitaliy, the owner, speaks good English, and his standards are very high; it is as if you were seeing the beauties of Western Urkaine from the comfort of your own backyard. Check it out at
www.karpati.infoThe first day, I saw the pysanky museum and in the evening we watched Borat. I thought it was very funny and lived up to all the hype. More interestingly I thought, was what it said about Americans, British humor, and it even had some surprisingly accurate portrayals of mentalities left after the Soviet Union; at least some still here, in my neck of the woods. We also went out and had good pizza and beer with the group that had already arrived. It was almost like a Saturday night in America.
The next day we went to the cabin with SO much stuff. We were only staying there overnight, but we had extra sleeping pads and blankets, cooking utensils, food, presents, Christmas decorations. It was a bit ridiculous. We filled a whole mini-bus; I think that I have mentioned that they are called marshrutkas (a few of you are intimately familiar with them). Vitaliy had ordered this marshrutka but we still ended up waiting a long time for a few girls from a neighbouring village to arrive. Turns out that the marshrutka Vitaliy ordered was the 10 o’clock driver from that village. So they had to wait for the next one, only to greet the driver personally when they did make it.
Vitaliy had gotten us a tree already. It was waiting for us in the cabin, so we moved in, hung ornaments and lights, and later we strung popcorn. As people unpacked, more and more creatively wrapped ‘white elephant’ presents appeared under the tree. I actually had brought two because I had already thought of a present when I got that hideous, but well intended, knick-knack (that I mentioned in the last blog), so I put that and a nice Ukrainian calendar (that I had been given two of) in a gift bag. We hadn’t brought quite enough ornaments, so we made some origami cranes and snowflakes. I had brought a traditional grandma doll that brings good blessings to be the angel on top. By the way, Christmas lights now are amazing; I imagine there are even better ones in the USA, but all the diodes and twinkling variations blew my mind.
For lunch, Vitaliy had some woman from the closest village come in and make borsht and mushroom polenta; it was very delicious. So good actually that we had to take a walk afterwards, we were so full. On our walk we sung Christmas carols; it was cheesy but fun.
When we got back I made eggnog; I had done it with my adult English club that week and we had sung Christmas carols. The singing wasn’t pretty, but another volunteer who helps out, Hilary, liked it and she made it fun, especially with the 12 days of Christmas.
Then I started in the kitchen; we were still full, but we were having shashlyk for dinner, Ukrainian shish-kabobs, and they are easier to cook while it is still light out. The kitchen in the cabin has every utensil, even a dishwasher which was the first I had seen in Ukraine. My school has an industrial one, but I’ve never seen them use it; they wash by hand. People started playing pictionary, and some would drift in to help. Most of them knew surprisingly little about cooking but took excellent directions; Erin made a great salad by detailed directions; Ryan gets very excited about most events; he and Jon made mashed potatoes, before Jon, claiming that watching for the potatoes to finish boiling was “too much pressure,” and left. Nathan, who had organized all this, managed the grill and Hilary helped him. He knew what he was doing; we made a good team. This is the same Nathan from the Camp Iknow campfire adventure (see blog Camp Iknow). We had 14 pounds of shahslyk, about 10 pounds of mashed potatoes, candied carrots, Ukrainian vegetable salad, applesauce, and pumpkin pie. It was all delicious, if not traditional for Christmas. It took a full 2 hours to cook, even though it was all quite simple.
As the night went on, those that hadn’t cooked would periodically clean up the mess that the rest of us continued to make. It was wonderful and amazing cooperation. I would expect this from Peace Corps volunteers, but I had heard some horror stories from volunteers that had hosted other holidays. I think it helps to have it at a neutral place, where everything works like it should (I wanted to have an apartment with no special instructions. I almost got it, but not quite; again it would be easier to explain in person, or ask someone who visited).
In the evening we had quite a schedule of entertainment:
-eggnog with a trombone (Jon), trumpet (Nathan), and guitar (Gino) concert of carols. It was supposed to be a sing-a-long, but the other 14 of us got drowned out. The boys were so excited to play for us, though, that we couldn’t stop them (actually we tried, unsuccessfully).
-The white elephant, or yankee swap or whatever you call it; always an interesting event.
-I-pod concerts; I won’t explain these, because I hear they are popular in America; are they common knowledge?
-At midnight we had a Champagne toast. Yes, it was Christmas. Why? Because we wanted to.
Then people started drifting off to bed. I played cards for a bit– cribbage then presidents- then I too went to bed. The cabin has satellite TV but no one ever even turned it on!!
The cabin was very warm inside but whenever we weren’t making enough noise to drown it out (which was until wee hours in the morning), you could hear the wind quite strongly outside. I must say again how nice the cabin was. The bathroom floors were heated, and the beds, pillows, and comforters were so nice. It is very good by any standard.
The next morning, Vitaliy came back and made eggs, toast, fruit, and mimosas. Nathan and I helped out, and I got to pick his brain a bit about customer service and green tourism here in Ukraine. Then we sang all the way back on the bus. It all went very quickly. Hilary and I took Gino back with us. He would be accompanying me on my next big adventure, which was to start the next day. He had heard me talking about it at Thanksgiving, and I invited him along.
But first, one last story. The whole group was at the bus station trying to figure out how to get home, always the last adventure around here, and the 3 of us asked a taxi. Actually, Hilary said we should, and off she went with Gino in tow. I knew that it would take us about 5 hours by bus, which would probably take 3 by private vehicle, but I thought a taxi would be very expensive, and a bus was leaving soon, so I went to get in line for tickets. The cashier had just finished printing me three tickets when Hilary came in and said that a driver had agreed to take us for a price that seemed almost possible, but phenomenal. I said to the cashier very quickly, “How much to cancel those tickets?” She was dumbstruck; she hadn’t even given them to me yet; she asked why, but waved me away (as an idiot) before I could finish. So I didn’t have to pay for them. But then, sure enough (and I don’t know whose misunderstanding it was), the taxi driver wanted a LOT more. So I sent Gino in to buy the bus tickets because I was too embarrassed to return, plus I thought she might yell at me, which I hate. Instead, when Gino asks for 3 to my town, he recounts to me later because I wasn’t even inside the building, she calmly says, “So the taxi wouldn’t take you?”
That wasn’t the only bus fiasco on that trip, but it was the only one I laughed over. That night when we got back, we 3 went to Olya’s café for a quiet Christmas dinner of the best Borsht and Varenyky (Perogies, if you know that name) in Ukraine. Then we went home and played Boggle.
Christmas here is on January 6th.
Labels: holidays
The Holidays - In the far East and the far West (part I)
[sidenote: this is my 101st blog, and the other day marked my 2 year anniversary in Ukraine]
The new volunteers that I adopted last spring have re-adopted me. They, along with one of the soon to be departed group of volunteers, invited me to a Thanksgiving in the far East of Ukraine. I figured it was going to be the best time for me to make the 20 hour trip so, off I went. I say they re-adopted me, because of about 15 people, I was the only one from my group. We arrive to country on a two year schedule with a group of people and most socializing tends to be by group or close geographic proximity.
It was a very fun weekend, and I got to see lots of great people that I had not seen in a very long time. I got put in charge of the turkeys, which for all my love of Thanksgiving was my first time. It took Ukraine to teach me how to make a turkey. The oven was tricky, and I thought it looked a bit dry and crispy, but it tasted delicious; everyone agreed. Perhaps it was just because we wanted it so badly. I did stuffing too, and helped with the mashed potatoes, which are specialties of mine if I do say so. We had so much food, and it was all so delicious. We cooked at Jenna’s school kitchen. We even had pumpkin and apple pie. We all ate so much, it hurt. We just lounged around all night.
I had planned to do a dinner with traditional food for all the Ukrainians that have been a big help to me while I have been here, but they were really kind of unexcited when I was asking for which Saturday would be better for them. In an indirect culture, this usually means it is a bad idea for some reason that no one will tell you, but you may just find out if you persist. I didn’t want to risk finding out after cooking Thanksgiving dinner for 12 Ukrainians. Mom had even mailed me cranberry sauce (thanks, I took it to the village and my Ukrainian pseudo-relatives loved it). Instead, I canned pumpkin and wrote out a pumpkin pie recipe in Ukrainian, and gave a jar to each of them. This was much more successful. Many of their eyes really lit up with excitement or curiosity. I got the idea after cooking pies with three of my classes at school. The kids got really excited over the process and product, but it was stressful to deal with the kitchen, plus I had had some bad news from home that week.
They celebrate St. Nicolas’ day on December 17, and that is when they give presents. I didn’t really want anything, but many people, who know that I live alone, asked IF St. Nicolas visited me. A few Ukrainians remembered me which was very nice. My 11th grade class made a point to wish me happy holidays, which was sweet and unexpected, but they gave me this hideous present. A 10th grade class invited me for an ethics discussion and tea after school which is their tradition with their home room teacher (they have the same teacher from 4th grade to 11th when they finish school; they are like second parents for the kids). It was very interesting.
Awkward but Comical (at least to me)
The other day, I went home with a new Italian tutor. She lives in a big home on one floor, her elderly parents live on the ground floor as do her brother and his family. She pushed me into the inner corridor to take off my shoes while she closed the outer door. It was only a minute but in that time her father opened the door immediately to my right, and peering at me in my suit from less than a meter away, he had this suddenly surprised look of, “oh my gosh! Who is in my house?” but he didn’t actually say anything, before I blurted out that I was with Mrs. Lesya. She then came through the door and assured the old man.
Winter frost finally arrived (or so I thought, it is gone already). I was actually very excited because it let me put the contents of my freezer (lots of vegetables from summer) out on my balcony while I defrosted it. I thought my frig was going to break. It had been a daily debate for me: do I wait and risk losing the frig, or do I defrost and lose the vegetables.
They refer to God as the Lord, but they always use the informal you while praying to him. Many people don’t even use the informal you with their biological father.
I went to school last week and everything was as usual. People were unloading the contents of their bazaar kiosks from my neighboring apartments, as always. But when I came home, everything was still as usual, but there was a new metal door with key on my apartment building entrance. Luckily it wasn’t locked. No one had discussed this with me, although I realized the other tenants must have decided to do it collectively and they had done it very quickly, in the space of maybe 4 hours. I stopped by my landlady, who also lives in the building, to ask if I could get a key. “No worries,” she said, “no one has keys; the door won’t be locked tonight.” So I went on my way for the evening, but as I left, I saw a woman that I didn’t recognize going around in her slippers with a little box and a list of names. I wondered if there were keys in the box, but my landlady is very dependable, so I didn’t worry. Well sure enough the big metal door was locked when I came home, but they had also put in a new light, and my landlord was home when I called his cell phone. Although now, I have to go down 3 flights of stairs every time I want to let someone in or out of the building, I love it. My hallway is clean and tidy, there are no sketchy characters about and the stairs don’t smell like a urinal anymore.
Finally, this isn’t really comical, but it is strange. Several times when I have been talking to people in the USA on my phone in my apartment, I get extremely cold. I start to shiver and my voice shakes a bit; I think it must sound like I am about to cry, but as soon as I get off the phone it goes away.
